


As Quick as Melting

by Emiline



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, First snowfall, Fluff, Smidge Of Angst, a little bit of Pendle, hand-holding, the tiniest smidge of gwen/algernon and dimity/marigold, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/Emiline
Summary: Ada glanced out the window. “It’s still snowing,” she sighed happily. “Would you like to go for a walk?”Hecate raised an eyebrow.“Properly attired for the weather of course,” Ada added, inclining her head. “It’s so beautiful out there. Let me show you?”“Very well. For you.”In which Ada attempts to convince Hecate of the joys of the first snowfall.TWW Winter Fluff 2018 Day 1: First Snowfall





	As Quick as Melting

The snow fell lightly that first properly wintry day, soft flakes melting on Ada’s cheeks and nose. She smiled, turned her face to the sky and twirled once, her skirt flaring slightly.

“Well met, Ada.”

“Hecate!” Ada’s cheeks were pink with cold, and her eyes sparkled. She moved towards Hecate, hands out. “Well met! You’re back, and just in time for the first snow of the year!”

Hecate gave Ada a small smile, and hesitantly slid her gloved hands into Ada’s bare ones. Ada squeezed them and beamed at Hecate. Hecate’s heart skipped a beat.

“Ada, what are you doing out here dressed like that?” she chided gently. “You’ll freeze to death.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied, repositioning herself to be on Hecate’s side and tucking Hecate’s hand into her elbow. “But I don’t intend to be out here long. I just wanted to revel for a moment in the first snowfall of the year.”

“And you didn’t want to put on a coat and hat first?”

“It wouldn’t be the same. You have to feel the snow on your hair, on your skin. You have to relish in the bite of the air. _Then_ you know it’s really winter.”

“If you say so.”

Ada chuckled. “You think I am very odd and you are wondering what possessed you to accept the position of deputy headmistress.”

Hecate smiled. “Not at all. You are…refreshingly you, as always.”

Ada bumped her shoulder affectionately against Hecate’s. “Oh, I have missed you.”

“I’ve only been gone two days.”

“Still.” 

Hecate felt a strange constriction in her throat, and blinked furiously.

“I should unpack.”

“Of course.” Ada patted her hand and let it fall from Ada’s arm, leaving Hecate strangely bereft. “Would you like to have tea after? Dimity gave me this marvelous Darjeeling blend that she found recently, and I am sure I could scare up a few of Maria’s snowflake biscuits.”

“That would be nice. Ten minutes should suffice.”

* * *

Hecate bit back a smile, when upon entering Ada’s office at the headmistress’ “Come in”, she espied the tea service with its jaunty snow-witches and snow-cats.

“A gift from one of my first students,” Ada explained. “Augusta Singer – a kindhearted girl and one of the hardest-working young witches I’ve ever met. I still get a card from her occasionally. Her gran runs a tea shop up north, and last I heard Augusta was doing some of the baking. But how was the conference?”  
Hecate accepted a cup of tea from Ada and breathed in the fragrant aroma. “Tolerable, I suppose. It can be difficult choosing sessions – the write-up in the program and the contents of the session sometimes have remarkably little to do with one another. But I did find one or two decent ones. Maisy Thistledown presented a very interesting lecture on how the cumulative effect of residual magic nearby potions ingredient storage areas can have an effect on how those ingredients behave in certain potions.” She sipped at the tea. “This _is_ quite good.”

“Isn’t it? Dimity always has good taste in tea.”

“I trust Algernon has been taking good care of my classes?”

“Oh yes, I think he enjoyed the opportunity to combine spell science and potions for a couple of days. He said it had given him some ideas for next term.”

“Indeed? That might not be the worst thing, I suppose.”

Ada laughed and selected a snowflake biscuit. “Are you sure you won’t try one, Hecate? Maria’s really outdone herself this year.”

“No, thank you.”

Pendle sauntered over and started threading himself back and forth between Ada’s legs. “I’m afraid that these are not for familiars,” Ada said. Pendle mewed. “No, not even if you give me that look.”

Pendle made a beeline for Hecate. She looked down at him.

“Mew?” he said, hopefully.

“I haven’t even got any biscuits you ridiculous creature.” She reached down to scratch behind his ears and he purred.

Ada glanced out the window. “It’s still snowing,” she sighed happily. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Hecate raised an eyebrow.

“Properly attired for the weather of course,” Ada added, inclining her head. “It’s so beautiful out there. Let me show you?”

“Very well. For you.”

“Thank you for indulging me.”

 _You’ve no idea,_ Hecate thought wistfully.

A couple of minutes later, Ada wrapped in a pale blue cloak and Hecate in a dark grey one, and each of them wearing a pair of gloves (Ada’s had kittens on them, Hecate was amused to note), they ventured out into the falling snow.

“What is it about the first snowfall that excites you so?”

“A proper first snowfall, one that’s more than just a few flakes here and there gives everything a sparkle of newness and a little bit of magic – not in the real sense, of course, but a fresh clean slate, everything looks different and a little shiny and like anything is possible. As though all your troubles have been wiped away and for a moment, for a few minutes, or a few hours the world is clean and bright and lovely and you haven’t any cares.”

She stopped and brushed some snow off the bench.

“It doesn’t last of course, and it’s only an illusion, but oh, it _is_ nice for that little while.” She eyed the bench. “I think it’s too cold to sit, let’s keep moving.”

They walked along, cloaks brushing against each other.

“My mother used to make warm milk with a cinnamon stick for us when the weather became particularly cold,” Hecate offered. 

“We always pestered Mother to make us peppermint hot chocolate.”

“Of course you did.”

Ada was right, Hecate decided. There was something perhaps not quite _magical_ but certainly peaceful about the softly falling snow, and the quiet, broken only by their steps and the occasional bird call. Hecate glanced down and saw the set of Ada’s shoulders and the frown on her face.

“You’re thinking about Agatha, aren’t you?” 

Ada bit her lip. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Agatha never understood all this,” Ada replied, sweeping her arm in front of her. “She always said ‘It won’t last’. And I think the fact that I loved it anyway, despite her, made her angry. Or maybe she was angry because she couldn’t understand why I loved it. It was one of the first times our tastes diverged.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“It was. It is.” Ada swiped at her face with the back side of her glove.

“Something else is bothering you.”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Ada sighed. “I’m not sure I can explain it.”

Hecate squeezed Ada’s hand, and Ada squeezed back. 

“You need not carry her with you at all times,” Hecate said quietly. “And it does no service to either of you if you permit her, especially in abstentia, to ruin your happiness.” She took a deep breath and felt the chilly air invade her chest. “You are worth more than that.” 

“She’s my sister, Hecate.”

“I know, and I know she is important to you. But the Agatha you’re struggling with right now-“ she reached with her free hand and laid her gloved fingers on Ada’s temple, “is in here. And you’ll never change anything about your relationship with Agatha based on the battles you fight with the Agatha in your head.”

Ada pursed her mouth, and then let out a long sigh. “You’re right, of course.”

“You came out here to enjoy the first snowfall, and to convince me that I ought to join in your exaltations.” Hecate’s mouth twitched. “And you’ve yet to convince me, so don’t let her spoil your fun. So what do we do first?”

“Well, we must take off our gloves.”  
“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Hecate took hers off and placed them neatly on a log.

“Now what?”

“Turn your face up to the sky – you can close your eyes or not as you wish, lean back a little and spread your arms out. Feel the snowflakes landing on your face.”

“Oh, I feel them. They are cold and then they become wet.”

Ada laughed. “And now, spin around.”

And for Ada and for Ada alone, Hecate tried.

“Oh my dear,” Ada chuckled, “you are concentrating far too hard. You need a little more _joie de vivre_. Here,” she took her hands. “We’ll do it together.”

After a few stumbling attempts, they fell into sync, whirling around and it was worth the whole endeavor, Hecate thought, to see Ada so happy and carefree. They slowed and broke apart, and Ada plopped down on the log next to their gloves, breathing heavily.

“Wasn’t that fun?”

“It is, I think, more your sort of fun than mine, but yes. Thank you for sharing this with me.” Hecate picked up her own gloves and sat down next to Ada.

“I never tire of it,” Ada admitted. “It’s one of my favorite winter traditions.”

“Weeelllll,” Hecate drew out, trying and failing to keep her features stern, “if it’s a tradition then of course I approve wholeheartedly.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Ada teased. “You know,” she continued conversationally, “this log isn’t nearly as comfortable as it first seemed. Shall we head back?”

Hecate pushed herself up and jammed the gloves in her pocket. She held out a hand to Ada.

“Thank you,” Ada replied, taking it and pulling herself up with a grunt. “That used to be easier.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Luckily for me, a gallant and beautiful witch was nearby.”

Hecate felt heat flooding her cheeks. “It is most assuredly time for us to head back. All that spinning has clearly addled your brain.”

But by unspoken agreement they took the long route back, and when Hecate stumbled over a dip in the path and Ada caught her arm, Hecate slid her hand down into Ada’s and did not let go until they were in sight of the school.

* * *

As they approached the entrance they saw they were not the only ones out for a stroll.

“Now that,” said Hecate with satisfaction, taking in Gwen’s heavy dark green cloak and silver muff, and Algernon’s dark grey cloak and heavy woolen scarf, “is a proper attire for this weather. I wonder what they are discussing?”

Then Algernon bent down and kissed Gwen. Hecate, without a moment’s hesitation grabbed Ada’s hand and transferred them into the staff room.

“Good heavens, and anyone might have seen them!” Hecate breathed, scandalized.

“Seen whom?” Marigold piped up.

Hecate started at the sound of art teacher’s voice, and then started again. Marigold was tucked into the armchair by the fire, which in and of itself was unremarkable, except for the fact that Dimity was perched on the arm of the same chair, arm casually draped around Marigold’s shoulders.

“I beg your pardon,” Hecate said stiffly. “We did not mean to interrupt.”

With a flick of her fingers she transferred herself and Ada to Ada’s sitting room.

“Mrow?” mourned Pendle.

“Oh for goodness sakes,” Hecate muttered.

Ada started giggling.

“What is it?”

“Oh Hecate, if you could only see your face,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh but I dare say that Pendle has never had such a look of affronted exasperation directed at him in his life, and there his, looking as innocent as a newborn lamb and as woebegone as though we haven’t feed him in a month.”

“He is the most shocking wheedler,” Hecate agreed, giving way to Ada’s mirth. “Worse than the students even.”

Pendle mewed loudly several more times as the two witches shook with laughter and then he stalked away, tail high. 

Ada and Hecate wiped their streaming eyes.

“Oh dear,” Ada managed. “Oh dear oh dear oh dear.”

“Quite so.” 

“Perhaps there is something in the air.”

“Perhaps,” Hecate said, summoning her courage, “it was the snow.”

“Do you think so?” Ada asked, and she looked suddenly shy.

“Yes,” Hecate swallowed, and leaned forward to press a feather-light kiss to Ada’s cheek. “I do.”


End file.
